The Party
by mistamademedoit
Summary: A slightly smutty two-shot of you and Mista
1. Chapter 1

It had been about five months since you'd started working for the Italian gang, Passione, and you thought you had fit in quite well. It was made much easier, being the cousin of the gang's leader, Bucciarati. Bucciarati was always so gentle and friendly, although, he did have a stern side, especially when business was involved, which you had experienced several times due to your role in the gang. You were an administrator at times, dealing with the gang's paperwork and connections throughout Italy, and a full time housekeeper, though you didn't like calling yourself that. You were basically a nanny. Living in a house with several men that didn't know how to wash clothes (Mista), or tidy up after themselves at dinner (Narancia), or keep the kitchen stocked with food meant that you had to do it instead. Not that you didn't enjoy it. The gang's antics were always amusing and at least you had the other members to help you here and there. You were very pleased when Trish came along and joined the gang. Being around men all the time meant that you didn't get any girl time… Even having your own 'me time' was losing its luxury, so you and Trish hit it off from the start.

When you started working with the gang, Bucciarati made you feel at ease, introducing you to the gang warmly. He was probably the reason why you were so close to them all now:

Trish was your best friend in the gang. I mean, the fact that you were both girls stuck in a house full of smelly men pretty much meant that you had to be friends, but you wouldn't change who it was for the world. Trish was very understanding. From the moment she joined Passione she was your rock; always there to offer an ear or a shoulder when you had a problem. It was the same for her with you.

Narancia was like a little brother, annoying but loveable. You spoiled him, much to Fugo's dismay.

"Look, he'll never learn if you keep telling him the answers! Let him work it out himself" Fugo said with an annoyed expression on his face.

"I didn't just tell him! I helped him work it out," you replied, innocently.

"Right, so doing the working out yourself to the get the answer for him is helping. Okay." In a flash, Fugo had picked up the nearest fork and brought it down on Narancia's hand, but it got wedged in the table instead as a squealing Narancia bolted from the living room. You grinned nervously at Fugo.

"Oh, do you hear that? Sounds like Bucciarati needs me… Bye!" You pace out of the study towards Bucciarati's office. _Phew, I'll never get used to his outbursts._

This was a daily occurrence between you, Narancia and Fugo. You hated it when people got mad at Narancia, he might be an idiot but he means well and his silly pranks were hilarious (until you were on the receiving end), how couldn't you love the boy?

Fugo, on the other hand, was intelligent, calm and collected (aside from the outbursts with Narancia) and, although he wore those silly suits with holes in them, that were such a pain to wash because they were prone to getting caught on everything, you two got on rather well. In fact, you often went to him when something confusing cropped up in your work, which he gladly helped you with.

Abbacchio is quiet. You thought he'd open up to you more as time went on, but alas, you just couldn't get him to talk and you didn't want to push your luck. However, it occurred to you that this was just how he was and he did gradually warm up to you, which was evident when he'd invite you to have tea with him in the lounge. You'd mostly sit with him in silence, enjoying the quiet, but occasionally you would have small conversations about current affairs. He even stopped scowling at you now.

You and Giorno also got on well. He was the one who'd help out around the house the most, which you highly appreciated. He was quite mature for his young age and very calculating, almost too calculating; you could almost never hide anything from Giorno, so you noted to be wary around him, not to say that you couldn't let your guard down around him, he was never malicious towards you or anyone else in the gang.

Then there was Mista. Not only was he loyal, loveable and sometimes idiotic, he was your crush. Yes, you liked the boy who wears the silly hat and has tetraphobia… not really selling it are you, (y/n)? Nevertheless, you and Mista were close friends, always joking around with each other and, even though he was a bit smelly, you fell for the boy. Everything about him shone in your eyes; his unwavering resolve, his loyalty, his jokes and his seriousness, his good looks and lean body… You even came to love his not-so-great traits, like his temper and his crudeness. Whenever you entered a room, Mista was the one you looked for. When he left to go on a mission, you prayed for his safe return, as well as all the others. When he returned, you'd scold him for being so reckless but take extra care in treating his wounds. You really liked Mista. 

"I don't understand why you won't just tell him, (y/n)!" Trish said.

You sigh in return, "because he doesn't like me back, Hell, he probably views me like a little sister!"

"Well, we'll just have to change his opinion on that then, won't we?

"How?"

Trish looked at your body sprawled across her bed and hummed to herself, "for starters, maybe we can change up your wardrobe… I think being around the gang for so long has made you too comfortable," she eyed your tracksuit bottoms and baggy jumper.

"What? You want me to prance around in a tube top and a mini skirt? I'll look like an idiot!" You retaliated, "c'mon, Trish, it's cold and I'm not going to any meetings with the Boss until next week! Cut me some slack."

Trish rolled her eyes, "all I'm saying is that you have a great body and you should show it off. It might get his attention."

You smiled at Trish, which soon turned into a devilish smirk, as you got off the bed and approached her. "Let's not forget what _you_ have to offer, Trish." You both began to laugh as you groped the air in front of her breasts.

"Stop it, (y/n)!" Trish laughed and smacked you playfully. Between the days you spent working and managing the household, you loved being around the gang members and Trish always knew the right things to say when you were in a mood. The conversations were always so easy-going with her. Just then there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Trish called, both of you brushing yourselves off as you recovered from your fit of laughter.

Mista opened the door, "Boss wants to see you, (y/n)."

You smiled, "okay, I'll be right there. Later, Trish." You stepped into the hallway with Mista and started towards Bucciarati's office.

"What were you two laughing about? I could hear you from the other end of the hall!"

"Oh, uh, nothing much," you smiled nervously, a light blush dusting your cheeks, "what does the Boss want to see me about?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Something about Passione hosting a party," Mista replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

"A party? Hmm, okay. How are you today anyway, Mista?" You looked up at him. He was almost a head taller than you. You just about reached his neck, the perfect height to cover him in-

Before you could finish that thought, he replied, "I'm okay. Still a bit sore from the last mission. Do you think you could rewrap the bandages on my shoulder? It's bleeding agai-"

"Mista! I told you not to move your arm around too much! The wound must've reopened," you scolded, "I'll do it later," you added.

He smiled sheepishly, "thanks, (y/n)," he ruffled your hair, "you're the best!" He jogged downstairs as you reached Bucciarati's office. Thinking about touching Mista's broad shoulders as he sat, topless in front of you, whilst you treated his wounds, again, was playing on your mind as you knocked on the door. Bucciarati's voice snapped you out of your pervy thoughts as he ushered you inside.

You learnt that in order to maintain the peace between Passione and other gang's in Italy, you were going to host a party. It would also offer an opportunity to make new connections and bring in more business.

"So, I'll need you to take care of the invites and send them off before Friday, (y/n)" Bucciarati informed you, handing over a list of gang leaders and their respective addresses.

"No problem, Boss" you smiled up at him.

"Your role at the party will be to hand out drinks and to make sure everyone is comfortable. Basically, just play hostess. I'll get Narancia to help you. Trish will greet people at the door and Mista, Giorno, Abbacchio and I will mingle with the crowd" he explained.

You nodded and bid farewell, getting started on those invitations.

The following week involved preparing for the party, such as buying food and drink, dry cleaning the guys' suits and stressing about what to wear. You were currently suffocating under a mountain of clothes that Trish had thrown onto your bed.

"What are you worried about? You have plenty of clothes to wear… How about this one?" Trish asked, holding up a red maxi dress.

You groaned, "no, I need something shorter because I'm going to be walking around all night."

"Hmm… Haha! How about this one?" Trish winked at you, holding up a navy blue dress. It was _way_ too short and hardly covered your front either.

You looked at her incredulously, "no way!"

Trish giggled, "I was only joking! Besides, I already found the _perfect_ dress." You looked at her expectantly as she pulled out another dress from inside your cupboard. Perking up a little after seeing the dress, you tried it on.

It was black, bringing out your eyes and contrasting against your beautiful skin. It accentuated your curves and dipped into your cleavage.

"Wow" Trish said, beaming at you.

"Yeah, it's pretty good," you agreed.

"(y/n)! You look amazing! If Mista doesn't make a move on you tomorrow night, I will instead," she exclaimed.

You laughed, "thanks, Trish. I really do like it."

 _Maybe, just maybe, Mista will like it too._


	2. Chapter 2

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. _Not too shabby, (y/n)._ Your hair, sleek and straight, fell neatly below your shoulders. Your dark eyes matched the dark dress you were wearing, making your eyes pop. Your plump lips shimmered in the light of your messy bedroom. Touching up on some mascara, you smoothed out your dress and exited your bedroom.

You could hear the murmurs of the gang downstairs. You suddenly felt extremely nervous. If it weren't for imagining how Mista looked in a suit, you wouldn't have even shown yourself. _Do it for his ass,_ you chanted, taking a deep breath and descending the stairs.

Trish squealed as she saw you enter the lobby. Everyone turned towards you. Blushing, you stared at the floor and fiddled with the hem of your dress.

Trish rushed over to give you a hug, gushing over you.

You looked over at the others. _That's strange. Why is Mista so red?_ He was pouting at Narancia who appeared to be teasing him about something. Before you could contemplate any further, Bucciarati ordered you and Narancia to prepare some drinks in the kitchen before the first guests arrived.

"God, my feet are killing me," you moaned to Giorno, chastising yourself for choosing the most inappropriate shoes to walk around in, already feeling the blisters forming.

"It's worth it though," he replied thoughtfully, "you've had a lot of male attention tonight, especially from one person in particular that I'm sure you'll be happy about." He winked at you.

"What?" _He can't mean Mista, right?_ "Giorno, what do yo-" before you could finish your sentence, a young man approached you. His low buttoned shirt, exposing his chest, was enough to make you blush just by looking. Matters were made worse when he asked for a dance. "Ah, I'm flattered, but I'm currently working right now and-" your voice was hushed by his finger that had been pressed against your lips. _What the Hell?_

"C'mon, just one dance," he smirked at you, dragging you towards the various other couples that were already dancing. The man pulled you close, too close, towards him as you started stepping in time with the music. _Ugh, where did Giorno go? I need to get back._ "You're very beautiful," he spoke, distracting you from your thoughts, reaching up to stroke his fingers against your cheek.

You cringed away from him, "uh, thanks… Look I really need to- hey!" You immediately pushed him away as his hands travelled down to your rear. "Back off," you spat, turning away from him, slightly shaken up. Deciding to step out of the party for a bit, you entered the kitchen to prepare some more drinks.

Glad that no one was in here, you reach up to grab what you were looking for.

"What idiot puts the wine all the way up here? Even in these heels, I'm not tall enough to reach… Come on, just a little further," grunting, you stretched your arms as far as they could. That was when you felt something firm press into you.

"Need some help?" It was Mista. He easily reached above you and placed the wine on the counter, freeing up his hands which were now placed on your hips. "(y/n), care to explain why you let that man fawn all over you?" He breathed into your ear, raising goose-bumps on your skin.

You gasped, "Mista?"

His lips brushed against your neck, "it was really hard watching him touch you like that. I think you need… a deterrent," he gently kissed your neck, "something to keep other guys away." He opened his mouth this time, beginning to suck.

"Mista," you huffed, tilting your head to give him more access. Grunting in approval, Mista attacked your neck, sucking and nipping, leaving small bruises in his wake, admiring the small noises coming from your mouth.

Your mouth. Your lips. He wanted them. Spinning you around, he looked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips parted. He leaned down, slowly, teasing you for what was to come. You shut your eyes, hands moving to the nape of his neck and lower spine, as he tentatively brushed his lips against yours. You sighed, moving your lips against his own, full and moist.

More. You wanted more. Trying to deepen the kiss, you licked his lower lip. Mista smirked, allowing you full entry into his mouth as your tongues danced together. His hands skittered over your waist and torso, setting your skin on fire. Meanwhile, your hands moved to his sculpted ass, groping it, resulting in Mista bucking his hips into yours. Breaking the kiss, you both moaned. Mista's expression was delicious. He looked so cute and dishevelled. Wasting no time, he picked you up and placed you on the kitchen table, hitching your dress up in the process.

You started frantically unbuttoning his shirt as he removed his blazer, stroking the smooth skin that lay hidden beneath it. Mista shuddered at your touch, going to remove the straps of your dress and then caressing your thighs. He was everywhere, making your heart dance.

"Ah, Mista," he licked down from your neck to the valley between your breasts, stopping to suck against them, again leaving more marks on your pale skin, until his path was disrupted by your strapless bra. He growled, annoyed that this piece of cloth was stopping the fun.

Just then, the kitchen door opened. Panicked, you two froze, seeing Narancia standing in the doorway.

Narancia's face, oblivious to the position you two were in, lit up.

"Narancia…" Mista spoke, cautiously.

He grinned, "it finally happened! Wait 'til the others hear about this!"

Mista scrambled towards him, "Narancia wai-" too late. "Well, shit," he cursed as you heard Narancia's booming voice in the next room, telling the gang members _and_ the guests what he just witnessed in the kitchen.

You two were definitely not going to forget about this anytime soon, _but it could be worse_ , you thought as you pulled Mista in for another kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

This website sucks so I'll post all my works here: /users/mistamademedoit


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